The silence of the late night pressed heavily, even the moonlight grew viscous.
The chirping of insects by the lake was like scattered beads, occasionally rolling out two or three from the grass.
The firelight inside and outside the tent had long been extinguished.
On the pristine bed, a lone man and woman, like dry tinder and fierce flames, only heavy breathing quietly gathered here, reflected in the subtle yet complex eyes of the silver-haired girl, alongside the dashing silhouette of the Sigma man.
Even though he was forced to agree to this request, this absurd wish—after all, he couldn’t break his word to Emilia, who held significant value to him—breaking his promise might lead to internal discord or trouble.
Thus, he could only make the selfless sacrifice.
With tears in his eyes and a bleeding heart, he reluctantly lay with the girl, like a wife forced to sleep with her boss for her husband’s future or life.
Even so, he held true to himself, lying stiffly on the bed like an eighty-year-old man, curled up, restrained, maintaining a defensive posture, never relaxing or inching closer to Emilia.
This created an invisible, intangible 38th parallel on the bed, with Sig and Emilia each occupying half, neither crossing the boundary.
But she wouldn’t let this chance slip to press her advantage and boost her favorability, hoping to get closer, care more for him, and make up for the harm she’d caused, even if just a little.
After all, beyond this, she had no other thoughts—her life now revolved solely around him.
Slightly raising her eyes, her heart had already deployed a gravitational field, watching the favorability bar above her good brother’s head nearing zero.
The dark progress bar had reached its end.
Though his words were harsh and biting over the past year, his favorability couldn’t lie—indeed, companionship was the longest confession of love.
Heh heh heh, her lips curled slightly, a sweet smile, seemingly content with the status quo.
Her delicate hands fumbled under the covers, her body trembling slightly, plotting something unknown.
This made Sig, already uneasy, shiver involuntarily, cold sweat beading on his forehead.
He hadn’t slept at all—couldn’t sleep, okay?
Facing away from the girl, he didn’t dare look back or think too much.
He had a bad premonition.
But as long as she didn’t cross the line, make small moves, or play tricks, he’d pretend to sleep soundly.
Maybe, in pretending, he’d actually fall asleep.
“Sig, are you asleep? I want to talk about something.”
Her sweet voice suddenly hit his ears.
Though he was used to it, it felt awkward now.
His body jolted, a bit tense.
Come on, bro, act normal—you’re scaring my little buddy.
No intention of pretending to sleep, he responded slowly, “What’s up? If it’s about the slave thing, let’s talk tomorrow. It’s too late to think clearly.”
He cut off the topic, not wanting to continue, but the next moment his eyes widened, bright and resolute, as if pledging allegiance.
Something soft pressed against his back—could it be…?
He didn’t dare think further, but soon his waist wasn’t spared either, tightly hugged by her delicate hands.
Her words and warm breath echoed in his ear, the distance between them infinitely closing.
“Sorry… Sig, I want to get closer to you. I hope you don’t mind. It’s a bit cold.”
“Cold, huh? No problem, kids, I’m here!”
Sig instantly perked up, as if triggered by a keyword, raising his hands high, shaking them faster and faster, creating a breeze like a helicopter, breaking free from her grasp, soaring into the air, and crashing down Superman-style—aka the Knee Destroyer.
He stood up suavely, wincing in pain.
Without hesitation, he reached into his pants, fumbling around.
“No way around it. M1917 Smith & Wesson, one shot to the head, and you won’t be cold… No, wait, my winter quilt!”
He pulled out two thick quilts, meant for winter, now unexpectedly useful.
He tossed them onto the girl, casually fixing his hair.
Realizing he might’ve been too fiery, he was shaken—not by a woman, no, a brother—no, wait… by this treacherous woman who’d betrayed him.
His mind was disturbed; he wasn’t mature enough.
A few more training rounds later, and he’d calm down.
To avoid embarrassment and excuses to return to bed, he decided to set an example, exercising until Emilia fell asleep.
Otherwise, he’d have to go back to bed… a place no Sigma man should be.
His convictions were being tested.
His virtues exploded, urging him to take notes…
The situation was spiraling.
Closing his eyes, he bent down, propped himself up, and started doing push-ups.
“Emilia, sleep first. Don’t mind me—absolutely don’t mind me or come near. I’m in the middle of a killer workout.”
“Fine.”
She didn’t press further, pulling the quilt over half her face, lying back down, realizing she’d been too hasty.
She thought close contact with a man would bring some resistance, especially since she was a man in her past life.
But it was easier than expected, with no repulsion—likely because it was Sig.
If it were Gerald… ugh, disgusting.
Her thoughts drifted into the wind, carried to the distant imperial capital, where Gerald, lost in fantasies, couldn’t sleep.
No longer heartbroken, he sought amusement.
Excited, he knelt on a grand bed, lunging forward, venting his desires on a maid with a silver wig, wearing Emilia’s forgotten dress.
The maid stifled her voice, covering her mouth, fearing punishment for disturbing the emperor’s dream.
He, lost in self-indulgence, murmured as if the maid were Emilia.
“Emilia, I know your good intentions. I wronged you, I’m sorry. But you can’t live without me, and I can’t without you. The empire needs you back, and so do I. Otherwise, our years of hard work will be ruined, and I’ll bear eternal infamy, losing everything…”
He didn’t want to ruin the moment with ominous words, so he changed the topic.
“I know you’ll come back, right? You love me so much, preparing all those apologetic gifts, doing so much for me. I’ve received your love and apologies. You must be suffering, thinking of me constantly, right? Where are you? This game of hard-to-get is enough. I know you’re important—I can’t live without you. I won’t sideline you anymore. You’ll be my queen, and we’ll have our child.”
Recalling Emilia’s heartfelt efforts, his heart warmed.
He was certain she had a place for him in her heart; otherwise, she wouldn’t have gone to such lengths.
Perhaps, upon hearing he was searching for her, she’d rush back.
If she hadn’t, she might not know or was still sulking, playing hard-to-get.
No matter—he’d find her and coax her.
He believed Emilia was hopelessly in love with him, incapable of abandoning him over small mistakes.
His earlier guilt had turned to fearless confidence.
Gerald, a disgrace among men